


Faith, Hope and Charity

by PlzdontcallmeVal (vlh114)



Category: Barduil - Fandom, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Barduil - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 02:49:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13180788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vlh114/pseuds/PlzdontcallmeVal
Summary: The family of Bard's wife had traditionally taken in lodgers, first to supplement their income then, after they became wealthy, out of kindness.  Bard continued the practice after his wife's death.  When his latest lodger moved out the ad was answered by Thranduil who was in need of such kindness.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story is told from Bard's point of view. The first chapter is set in the present with Bard having flashbacks to the past.

“Your son is dying.”  Four small words that brought with them so much action.  At first Bard thought Oropher had hung up on him but then there was a deep breath and a voice so much like Thranduil’s asking, “where”.  Almost everything after that was a blur; a limousine at the house, a trip to the hospital for the test, the joy of a positive result and now surgery for Thranduil.  Oropher had been Thranduil’s last hope.  There were no matches in the national database and no other living relatives to test.  He’d been angry with Bard for tracking his father down but Bard thought he had no choice but to try everything to save his life.

A loud boom of thunder crashing outside drew Bard to the window as he wondered if the children were alright at Hilda’s.  Sigrid, at age twelve, had never had problems during a storm.  Bain, at age eight, had some bad nights when he was younger but seemed to be alright lately.  Tilda, age five, pretended to be brave and probably would be alright because Sigrid would be there for her.  But little Legolas?  Bard sighed…little Legolas.  Bard couldn’t help but feel so helpless when it came to the four-year-old.  He was fine at home when his father was there and had come out of his shell fairly quickly around the seemingly endless chaos of the house but now his father was terribly sick, a grandfather he’d never known was at the house trying to initiate some kind of relationship with him and instead of being in his own room he was at a stranger’s house during a thunderstorm.  Bard thought that probably one, or more likely, all of his children would comfort the little blond if he was distressed.  He knew and trusted Hilda to make Legolas feel as safe as she could.

The rain tapped on the window causing Bard to turn his head.  It was only nine in the morning but the dark clouds made it look like nine at night.  He could barely make out the shapes of the cars in the parking lot below.  But it reminded him of when he had first laid eyes on the tall, blond stranger that would quickly become one of the most important people in his life…even if the tall, blond didn't actually know it yet.

*

The rain had started before dawn; the kind of rain that seemed to soak a man through to his bones despite the layers he wore to protect himself.  He’d exhausted himself entertaining the children all day so they wouldn’t get bored and start to argue like they usually did when trapped inside during rain or snow storms.  After a game of hide-and-seek it was a Disney movie marathon for the girls and a video game challenge with Bain in his room.  When that was over he brought everyone together in the kitchen for cookie baking.  The cookies disappeared quickly but at least the kids waited until after dinner and left him one.  The house fell blissfully silent after the children went to bed without much fuss.  On his own for the first time all day Bard tried to decide whether he should risk watching television with the sound barely loud enough to hear over the rain or if should read.  If he chose the television there was a chance it would wake one of the children.  They always seemed to sense when he was relaxing on the sofa watching a show they shouldn’t see.  If one got up another was sure to follow and soon after the third would come down too.  The channel would have to be changed to something more suitable and they’d, more than likely, all fall asleep downstairs.  If he chose to read the only one with a chance of falling asleep downstairs was him.

Just as he settled down with The Count of Monte Cristo he realized that his lodger was supposed to arrive that afternoon but hadn’t.  He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten all about it but he didn’t beat himself up too badly; he’d been so busy with the children.  It had been tradition in his late wife’s family to take in a lodger and she continued the practice after they’d passed away and left her the house.  He kept it up after she passed away because he knew it was what she’d want.  The last lodger had moved out a little over a week ago, a notice was put up in the window of Bilbo’s grocery store and was answered the next day by a young, single father of one.  The interview had gone well even though Bard had wanted a single man or woman.  But the man, Thranduil, had been desperate enough to beg so Bard had relented.  Father and son would have to share the room and the bed but Thranduil said that it would be fine; his son was only four. 

As he finally read the first word on the page he’d opened to the doorbell rang.  Bard hopped up from the sofa to get to the door before the bell rang again and woke the children.  Once he had the screen door open he said, “Come in, come in.”

“You’ll probably want to put some towels down before your floors get ruined,” Thranduil said with a sad smile.  In one hand he held a closed umbrella in the other the hand of his son.  Two suitcases were on the porch at his side.

The little boy, almost the same age as Bard’s youngest, was clearly frightened, doing his best to hide behind his father’s leg.  The porch roof offered cover but both were dripping from the walk from the driveway to the porch.  “Sorry.  Yes, of course.  Just a second.”  Bard ran to the hall bath and was back in a flash with several towels.  Two he laid on the floor so Thranduil and his son could come in the others he kept until he could take their jackets.

While Bard went to hang up their coats Thranduil knelt to dry his son the best he could after removing his wet shoes and socks.  He wrapped his son’s long blond hair up in the towel and piled it on top of his head before patting himself dry and then doing the same to his hair.  “I’m sorry we’re so late.  Once I put Legolas to bed I can explain.”

“That’s alright.  You don’t have to explain.  Let’s get the two of you settled in your room.”  Bard picked up one of the suitcases before turning to lead the two up the stairs.  At the top he crossed the wide landing and entered the nearest bedroom on the right.  “Like I told you, there’s a full-sized bed, a dresser and a chest of drawers.  The closet is relatively small but that’s how they built them back in the day.  None of the bedrooms have ensuites but the children share a jack and jill bath so that means you and I and Legolas will share the bath in the hall.”

“Thank you.”  Thranduil looked down at his son, “We’ll make sure to keep it nice and tidy, won’t we?”

Legolas tried to hide behind his father even more.

“If you’ll come with me I’ll show you the bathroom.”

“Of course.”  Thranduil went down on one knee to address Legolas unwrapping the towel from around his hair as he did so, “I’ll be right back.  Can you find your pajamas in the suitcase?”  He unzipped the smaller of the two suitcases then flipped the top open.

Legolas removed the towel from his own hair and nodded but didn’t make a move to look through the bag.

“Alright.  Come on.”  Thranduil held out his hand.  The little boy quickly latched on to it.

The bathroom was right next door, between Bard’s room and theirs.  It was surprisingly large for such an old house.  Inside the door was a single pedestal sink.  Further along the same wall was the toilet.  The claw foot tub with its white shower curtain was in the far corner in front of the window.  The linen closet was behind the open entry door and a mirrored medicine cabinet was over the sink.  The whole room was done in classic white subway tile and the floor in small octagonal tile in white and black.  “I don’t keep any drugs in here or anything that could be dangerous if taken by the children including aspirin or cough syrup, things like that.  Those things I keep in my room in a locked drawer.”

“Of course.”

“That’s it then.  I’ll let you get settled in.  If you need anything I’ll be down in the living room.  Feel free to come join me if you want to.  I usually head up to bed somewhere between ten and eleven.  I try to be quiet after the children have gone to bed.  I don’t know about your son but my kids are very light sleepers.”

“We’ll be as quiet as possible.  I don’t’ think either of us will be awake for long once we lie down.”

“See you in the morning then.”

“Until then.”

Leaving his new lodgers to themselves Bard returned to the living room.  From upstairs he could hear some soft murmuring and movement as Thranduil and Legolas got ready for bed, used the bathroom and returned to the bedroom.  Soon the house was quiet again and Bard settled down with his book.

**                                                                                                                                                           

The next morning Bard was at the counter pouring milk into cereal bowls when Thranduil entered the kitchen, stopping in the doorway, with Legolas close behind.  “Good morning.”

“Good morning.  Say ‘good morning’ to Mr. Bard, Legolas.”

Legolas stood in his usual position behind his father’s leg and shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” Thranduil apologized, “he’s not usually like this.”

“It’s alright.  New faces, new surroundings.  It’ll take him some time to get used to us.”  Bard put the cereal bowls down on the table before shouting, “Come on, kids!  Breakfast!”

It wasn’t long before what sounded like a stampede was coming down the stairs.  Three children stopped in their tracks when they saw Thranduil and Legolas at the kitchen door.

“Come eat.  You all know we were expecting new guests yesterday.  They arrived after you’d gone to bed.”

As the children passed Bard introduced them.  “This is Sigrid, Bain and Tilda.  Children this is Mr. Oropherion and his son Legolas.”

“Please call me Thranduil.”

“ _Mr_. Thranduil to you children.”

A chorus of ‘hellos’ rang out as the children took their seats.

Thranduil let the children take what he assumed to be their usual seats before he ushered his son into a chair.  He was about to ask if he could ‘borrow’ some cereal when full bowls were put down in front of him and Legolas.

“You probably don’t have anything since you arrived so late.  I’m not stingy over the food.  If you don’t have something you need you’re free to use what I have as long as you let me know if we run out.”

“Thank you.  I planned to do some shopping after work today.”

“You’re working for Bilbo if I remember correctly.  At least you’ll get the employee discount.”

“Yes, part-time for him and part-time at the bookstore.  If there’s anything you need at the grocery store please let me know.”

“Thanks, but Bilbo is always good to us.  I’d hate to take advantage.”

Silence descended over the room as everyone started to eat until Bard asked, “Will Legolas be taking the school bus with mine?”

“I’m going to go with him today, see that he’s alright.”

“He’s four, right?  My Tilda just turned five so they will be in the same class.  She’ll make sure he’s settled, right Til?”

“I don’t wanna go to a new school.  I wanna stay in my school.” Legolas whined, the cereal remained untouched.

Thranduil got up to squat down next to his son, “We’ve talked about this.  We’ve moved and your old school is too far away now.  You’ll have a new teacher and lots of new friends.”

Tiny tears began to roll down the little blond’s face, “I don’t want to.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.  It’s only for a couple of weeks then school will be out for the summer.”

“Can we go home then?”  Legolas asked as he wiped his tears with his hand.

Tilda half-turned in her chair, “It’s okay.  Mrs. D is nice.  You’ll like her.”

Thranduil explained, “Legolas met her when we went to register the other day.  You said she was pretty, remember?”

He remembered but Legolas said, “No.  I don’t want to.  Why can’t I stay with you?”

“I have to go to work.”

“I won’t get in the way.  I’ll be good.  Can I please?”

Thranduil picked his son up, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Legolas buried his face in his father’s hair as he wrapped his legs around Thranduil’s waist.

Bard watched as Thranduil disappeared back through the kitchen door.

“Da?”

“Yes, Sigrid?”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“There’s nothing wrong with him.  Some children find going to a new school scary. He’s also had to move to a new place.  He’ll be alright.  Make sure you’re all extra nice to him, okay?”

A round of “okay, Da’s” was heard before the children turned their attention back to their breakfast.  But Bard continued to stare through the doorway long after Thranduil had disappeared.

**

Bard turned from the window as he heard some people enter the surgical waiting area.  He didn’t want to listen to their idle chatter.  He wanted to think and to do that he needed quiet.  The problem was that quiet was hard to find in the busy surgical center.  There was only one place he could think of to go.

***

The only person in the chapel was a volunteer changing out the old flowers on a side table for new ones.  She didn’t even turn to look at him when the door opened and softly creaked closed.  Bard took a seat on the other side of the aisle from her where he was glad to see that she had already changed the flowers.  It wasn’t possible to hear the rain from inside the small chapel but every once in a while Bard could hear the crashing thunder.  He was glad of the loud booms; they would help keep him awake.  Not that he could sleep if he tried.  He thought back to try to recall an incident where he learned something about the man upstairs in surgery and came up with the time he’d found Thranduil down in the kitchen at two in the morning.

*

There was a half-full glass of red wine on the table and Thranduil seemed lost in thought.  “Everything okay?” he asked.

Thranduil had heard someone coming down the stairs so wasn’t alarmed when Bard spoke.  He ran his hands down his face before responding.  “Yeah.  Sorry.  I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t.  The enchiladas we had for dinner have given me a slight case of heartburn.  I came down for some milk.”  To prove his point Bard got a glass down from the cabinet next to the fridge.  After pouring milk into the glass he asked, “Mind if I sit with you?”

“No.”

“You couldn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“I don’t mean to pry but are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Tonight is the anniversary of my wife’s death.”

“Oh.  I’m sorry.”  Bard had known that Thranduil’s wife had passed away but didn’t know any of the details.

“I can never sleep.  It’s like she comes to remind me that I failed her.”

Before he could stop himself Bard asked, “How did she die?”

“Cancer.”

“How long ago?”

“Three years.”

“Legolas never got to know her.”  Bard was grateful that at least his children got to spend some time with their mother before she passed away.  They had some wonderful memories and lots of pictures.  He thought the times they spent together had really helped the kids after she’d gone.

“No.”

“What did you mean when you said you’d failed her?”

“She owned and operated an herbal medicine store.  My wife was a big believer in holistic medicine and cures.  She thought the right mixes of herbs and roots could fix anything.  It’s the one thing we disagreed on and fought over.  One day she found a lump in her breast.  She believed she could heal herself.  She wouldn’t listen to reason because in the beginning she felt fine.  When she got bad she still wouldn’t listen to me.  One time she was in so much pain I called an ambulance.  She refused to let them take her to the hospital.  I begged her to let me take her but she refused me too.  Even toward the end she refused to go.  They couldn’t have saved her but they could’ve eased her suffering.  In those final days she asked me several times to help her but I couldn’t do it.  I wanted her to be at peace but I couldn’t end her life for her.  When she was coherent she would say she understood but when the pain got really bad she would say that she hated me and that I was failing her.”

“She didn’t mean that.  It was the pain talking.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself but her words…”  Thranduil trailed off shaking his head.

Bard finished the sentence for him, “Her words haunt you.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t change what happened.”

“I know.”

“Forgive yourself.”

“Someday.”

“You still have Legolas.”

“He’s all I have.  Her family sued me for wrongful death.  Even though she’d signed a statement refusing medical treatment, had an advanced care directive and had written a letter explaining what she wanted and why, the judge ruled in their favor.  All my assets were seized as part of the settlement and are being held until my appeal is heard.  All I have is Legolas and what I could pack in the suitcases I carried when I arrived here.”

“That’s awful.  You did what she wanted.  How could they blame you?”

“They think I should have done more to get her to go to the hospital.  They didn’t come to see her when she was ill but they showed up at the funeral parlor and made a scene.  I had to walk out of my own wife’s wake.  At least,” Thranduil sighed, “they didn’t cause another scene at the funeral.”

Thranduil was being uncharacteristically open, maybe the wine had loosened his tongue, so Bard didn’t hesitate to say, “I’m surprised they didn’t try to take Legolas from you too.”

“They don’t want him.  They say he looks too much like me and since they blame me for their daughter’s death they don’t want to look at him and be reminded of me.”

“What?!”

“He used to ask why his grandparents don’t want to see him.  I used to tell him that it was because they were older and couldn’t take care of him like he needed.  Then we moved so now I tell him that we’re too far away.  I’m hoping that he’ll stop asking soon.”

Bard had no words left.  He couldn’t believe Thranduil’s in-laws had blamed him for their daughter’s death.  They must’ve known how steadfast she was in her beliefs.  And he couldn’t believe the judgement had gone against him with all the documentation in his favor.  The two had sat together until Thranduil’s wine glass was empty then they went up to bed.

**

When Bard looked around the volunteer had gone.  He decided to return to the surgical waiting room even if there were other people there.  If there was some news he wanted to be there to hear it.  As the chapel door creaked closed behind him he realized that he had forgotten to pray.

***

When the doors slid open Bard absentmindedly followed the other people off the elevator.  It wasn’t until he was walking for a few minutes that he realized the sights and sounds were not the same as those in the surgical area.  The walls were pastel instead of the dull hospital gray and there were life-sized decals of Disney and other cartoon characters stuck to the walls.  As he made his way back to the elevator the sound of a child crying brought another memory to the surface.

*

There was a bunch of neighborhood children, along with Bain, riding their bikes up and down the block and at any moment Bard expected to hear a crash followed by hysterical crying because he was sure one of the kids would fall off their bike and no matter whom it was his Tilda would break into tears.  She’d always been oversensitive to other people’s injuries, crying over a paper cut Sigrid got turning the page of a book or a scraped knee Bain got tripping over his own feet.  She’d even cried over a splinter Bard had gotten picking up a rough piece of wood; it was so tiny he could barely see it but she bawled until he’d removed it and put a band-aid on.  He was so intent on watching the younger children he missed Sigrid losing her balance from where she was walking along the curb.  Of course, it was Tilda who raised the alarm after seeing her sister fall.  Sigrid was sitting on the ground clutching her ankle when Bard got to her.

Thranduil had heard the commotion and had come around the side of the house to see Bard carrying Sigrid.  “Sit her on the steps.  Let me have a look.”  Thranduil slipped off her sneaker before gently feeling around her ankle, “Can you wiggle your toes?”

Sigrid scrunched up her face before slowly moving her toes.

“Did that hurt?”

Sigrid shook her head.

“Okay.”  Thranduil ran his thumb nail on the underside of Sigrid’s foot, “Did you feel that?”

This time Sigrid nodded.

Thranduil looked up to Bard, “It doesn’t feel broken and she has feeling and mobility.  I think some ice, elevation and ice cream will do.  Do you have a bandage?”

“Bain!”  Bard called startling his son and Thranduil.  “Run into the house and get the ace bandage out of the bathroom closet.”

“Which bathroom?” Bain asked as he ran toward the house after abandoning his bike in the street.

Bard had to think a moment before he answered, “Check yours first.  If it’s not there check mine.”

“Okay, Da.”  Bain disappeared around the house to the side door so he wouldn’t have to disturb his sister to get through the front.  The boy was back in a flash with the bandage, “It was in mine.”

“Thanks, Bain.”  Bard handed the wrap to Thranduil.  As Bard watched Thranduil expertly examine and wrap his daughter’s ankle he remembered how Thranduil’s in-laws had expected him to use his influence to get his wife to agree to go to the hospital.  Was it possible that Thranduil had been a doctor?

Bard didn’t ask Thranduil about his past that day, the next or any day that followed.  It hadn’t mattered to him then and it still didn’t.  The only thing that mattered was the kind of man he was.  He was conscientious, hard-working, thoughtful, cared about all the children (not just Legolas) and he needed a place to stay.  Bard didn’t ask about the appeal either.  As far as he was concerned Thranduil could stay as long as he wanted to.  At that time he didn’t realize that he was beginning to think of his lodger as somebody he could fall for; that would take a little while longer.

**

A nurse entered the surgical waiting area and Bard’s heart leapt into his throat in the anticipation of news but she approached a man sitting across the room from him.  He sighed as he tried to calm himself.  He was sure the procedure wasn’t supposed to take so long; something had to have gone wrong.  _Don’t think like that.  Everything will be fine.  Thranduil will be fine._   The nurse must’ve given the man good news.  He thanked her many times before she left the room.  On her way out Bard noticed that she had a butterfly pin on her sweater and that brought another memory to his mind.  The summer had flown by, school had started again, the holidays had come and gone and once again flowers were blooming in the garden.

*

“Hi, Mister Bard,” Legolas greeted Bard as he got out of his car and started to remove the grocery bags from the back seat.

Bard was surprised to see that Legolas still had all his long, golden locks.  “Hello, Legolas.  I thought today was the day you were going to donate your hair.”

“Uh-huh,” the five-year-old nodded.

“But you still have all your hair.”

“Uh-huh.”  Legolas became distracted by a yellow and black butterfly until it flittered around the corner of the house and out of sight.  “Um…”

“Your hair,” Bard prompted.

“Yeah.  Poppa took me but I cried and he said I didn’t have to.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  Where is your poppa?”

“In the shower.  He said he wanted to…ummm,” Legolas closed his eyes while he tried to remember the phrase his father had used.  When he remembered he opened his eyes again, “He said he wanted to wash in his new hair.”

“His new hair?”

“Yeah, poppa got his hair cut instead so the lady wouldn’t be mad.”

“He did?”

“Uh-huh.  The lady was really happy and thanked poppa a lot.”

 _I bet she did_ , Bard thought.  Thranduil had beautiful hair.  She’d probably never seen the likes of it before and probably never would again.  “Okay.  I’m going to put the groceries away.  You wanna help?”

“Nope.  Bye, Mister Bard.”  The youngster waived as he ran around the side of the house to see if he could find where the butterfly had gone.

“Bye, Legolas.”  In the house Bard didn’t hear the sound of the shower running upstairs so he figured Thranduil would be down soon to see what his son was up to.  Bard had two of the four grocery bags put away when Thranduil made his entrance.  What he saw made him gasp.  Thranduil’s hair was cropped short, trimmed around his ears.  It broke Bard’s heart but the other man still looked beautiful.  “Oh, my.”

“Is it that bad?” Thranduil ran a hand through his damp hair.

“It’s…different.”  When Thranduil cringed Bard complimented his sacrifice, “You did a good thing.”

“Legolas couldn’t go through with it.”

“I saw him outside.”

“He started to cry the second the stylist put the drape around him.  I told him he didn’t have to do it but he kept crying because he thought the woman from the charity would be mad at him.  Even she tried to tell him it was alright but he wouldn’t stop.”

“So, you volunteered.”

“Yes.”

“So much of it though.  I thought they only wanted six inches.”

“Ten is the minimum.”

“You got so much more taken off though.” Bard figured a good foot was gone at least.  Thranduil’s hair had been down past the middle of his back.

“It looked…odd just hanging there so I asked her to give me a good cut.”  Thranduil sighed as he shrugged, “This is what I got.”

He really didn’t have to ask, Thranduil’s defeated sigh was enough, but Bard asked anyway, “You don’t like it?”

Another sigh from Thranduil answered that question, “My only joy is that it will eventually grow back.”

“Yes,” Bard agreed.  “You look good though.”

“Thank you.  It will just take some time getting used to, I guess.  Please don’t say anything to Legolas.  I don’t want him to get upset if he finds out that I don’t like this cut.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t.”

“Thank you.”

Bard watched him until Thranduil went out the side door to find his son.

**

His hair had grown out quickly and by the end of the year it was down to Thranduil’s shoulders again.  Even during the usually horrible middle stage when there never seems to be anything you can do to tame it, to Bard, Thranduil looked amazing. 

***

Checking his watch for what seemed like the millionth time Bard was sure something was wrong.  The procedure should be over, he should have word and Thranduil should be in recovery or in a room.  He wouldn’t be allowed in because of the risk of infection to Thranduil but he could look through the window and see that he was alright, maybe get a tired smile or a wave from him as a signal that he was doing well. 

As he exited the waiting area a nurse passed him on her way in.  When he heard her ask if anyone was waiting for Mr. Oropherion he turned around.  Bard was relieved to learn that Thranduil was out of surgery and resting comfortably in recovery, he would be in his own room within thirty minutes and he could see him but not enter the room, something he already knew.  As for Oropher, since his procedure wasn’t as invasive as his son’s, he was also resting comfortably and should be ready to leave soon.  As he watched the nurse leave Bard thought about the first time Thranduil may have exhibited the first signs that he was ill.

*

Legolas was standing at the fridge reaching for the milk when Bard entered the kitchen one morning.  Thranduil, normally at the stove cooking eggs or pancakes for his son, was asleep at the table, his head resting in his hand.

“Poppa is tired again,” Legolas explained while Bard got the milk out of the fridge for him.

It hadn’t escaped Bard’s notice that Thranduil had seemed unusually tired the last couple of weeks.  It was possible the other man was having trouble sleeping, was staying up late reading or…Bard didn’t know.  He put his hand on Thranduil’s shoulder, shaking lightly, “Thranduil.  Breakfast.”

“Hmmm,” Thranduil hummed, “I don’t want to go to school today.”

“No school for you.  You do have to go to work though,” Bard laughed as he poured milk into the bowl of cereal Legolas had made for his father.

“I got poppa breakfast,” Legolas grinned.

“I see.  Thank you,” Bard smiled back at the little blond.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Thranduil yawned.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I’m just so tired all the time lately.”

“Are you not sleeping well?”

“I’m sleeping fine.  Legolas kicks sometimes but I’m used to that.”

Before Bard could say anything else there was the rumble of six feet coming down the stairs signaling the approach of his children.  They burst into the room, quickly taking their seats while Bard put cereal into their bowls.  Thranduil dozed off again without so much as a spoonful of his breakfast.

A week later when Bard got home from the library with the children he was surprised to see Thranduil’s car in the driveway.  As soon as he had the door open Legolas was bounding up the stairs shouting, “Poppa!  Poppa!”

From the bottom of the stairs Bard could hear Legloas’s excited voice but Thranduil’s responses were muffled.  Soon Legolas was shouting for him to come up the stairs.

Thranduil was usually pale but he looked a ghostly shade of white under the navy bedding when Bard entered the room.  “You need to go to the hospital.”

“No.  I made an appointment to see my doctor tomorrow.  I was only wondering if you could find Legolas someplace else to sleep tonight so he doesn’t catch whatever it is I have.”

“Sure.  I’ll have Bain double up with me for tonight so Legolas can have his bed.”

“Thank you.”

**

A ray of sunshine broke through the clouds and Bard returned to the window.  The rain had stopped and the clouds were slowly parting to reveal the bright blue sky.  The view did nothing to lighten Bard’s mood.  Yes, Thranduil was out of surgery but there was still a long way to go before he could be considered healed. 

*

One doctor and a specialist didn’t bring good news.  It wasn’t a cold, the flu or ammonia.  Blood tests and all of Thranduil’s symptoms, those Bard knew about and those Thranduil had kept to himself; persistent fatigue, fever, bone pain and loss of weight equaled chronic myelogenous leukemia.  The disease may have lain dormant in Thranduil’s system for years before symptoms began to show.  He was put on medication right away to try to control the disease.  When that failed radiation therapy was the next step.  When it became clear that the high doses of radiation were not going to kill the cancer cells a bone transplant was required to save Thranduil’s life.

There were no matches on the national registry, Legolas was much too young to be tested and Thranduil had no brothers, sisters or even cousins.  That left his father, Oropher.  Thranduil had been adamant that his father not be found and contacted.  He would rather die.  Bard couldn’t let that happen.  He didn’t know when he had gone from thinking he could fall in love to actually being in love and had thought, at first, that the stronger emotion was caused by the sympathy he felt because Thranduil was sick.  But as he got more and more ill Bard realized that he couldn’t just sit by and let Thranduil die.

It was unknown to Bard what had caused the rift between father and son but if there was something he could do to prevent Thranduil from dying he was going to do it.  Oropher was surprisingly easy to find.  Getting him on the phone was another story.  Whenever Bard called Oropher was either in a meeting or otherwise occupied.  Either that or his secretary was extremely diligent in not letting her boss take calls from strangers claiming to know his son.  Finally Bard had no choice but to tell the secretary exactly why he was calling.  He gave her the names of Thranduil’s doctors and told her that she could call them if she didn’t believe him.  Oropher called Bard back within five minutes.

When Thranduil had found out he had been furious.

“What else could I do?” Bard asked.  “I can’t stand by and watch you die.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

 “I want you to keep Legolas after I’m gone.”

 “What?”

Thranduil lifted his hand, “I would like for you to keep Legolas after I’m gone.  He likes you.  There isn’t anybody else.  I don’t want him becoming a ward of the state.”

Bard took Thranduil’s hand gently in his, “Don’t talk like that.  You’re going to be fine.”

“He doesn’t know my father.  I don’t want my father to take him.  He’ll send him off to some boarding school like he did me.  Promise me you’ll look after Legolas.”

The big blue eyes staring up at him, pleading, were too much for Bard, “I promise.”

“You shouldn’t have called him.”

“Well that’s too bad because I did and he’ll be here tomorrow.”

“I asked you not to.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Like not wanting me to die.”

“Yes.”  Bard wanted to squeeze Thranduil’s hand and scream, _“You don’t have to die!  You can choose to live!  If not for yourself or your son then for me!   I love you!”_ but he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Everyone dies.” 

“You don’t have to.”

“What if he’s not a match?”

“He will be.”

“What if he’s not?”

“Then we’ll worry about it then.”

**

A feeling of regret at not confessing his love that day brought Bard back to the present.  Something in the way Thranduil had looked at him, how they had held hands said that the news would not be unwelcome and Bard dared to hope that when he finally did confess that the feelings would be returned.


	2. Oropher Makes Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard is back home to answer the children's questions and deal with Thranduil's father.

Even though he had to stand in the hallway and look through the glass window into Thranduil’s room Bard still had to wear a mask over his face.  He had hoped that Thranduil would be able to read his lips as he asked questions or offered support but as it turned out all Thranduil could do was give him a tired thumbs-up before he closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep.  Oropher, on the other hand, in an outpatient cubicle, was full of pain killers and except for some minor discomfort in his hip was feeling fine.  He was already on the phone making arrangements with this secretary for upcoming meetings.  _There he goes, back to his life_ , Bard thought, _now that he’s done his duty_.  _But maybe I’m being unfair.  I don’t know the man well at all_.  Thranduil had said some things about Oropher’s parenting skills and had hinted at others and Bard hadn’t spent much time having one-on-one conversations with the man but he was still thankful that it didn’t look like Oropher was going to hang out around the house for much longer.

It had been thought that Thranduil would also be able to go home the same day as the procedure but since he’d been experiencing pain, nausea and chills the doctor decided to keep him in the hospital until he was fit to be released.  Bard hated to leave but the paperwork for Oropher’s discharge was complete, he couldn’t see Thranduil properly and the children, especially Legolas, would be anxious for an update.  Oropher had been brought to the hospital in his limo but Bard had chosen to drive his own car.  He’d never been in a limousine, not even for his own wedding, and didn’t think going to the hospital was occasion enough to ride in one now.  Plus, Thranduil rode with him giving them a little bit of private time together they wouldn’t have gotten in the limousine.

*

Even though the limo had pulled away from the hospital while Bard was still walking to his car Bard was the one to arrive at the house first.  The children must’ve been watching from Hilda’s porch because as soon as he had the car door closed he was surrounded.  His children were happy to see him but Legolas was standing back a few feet with the biggest frown on his face and tears welling up in his eyes.

Stepping carefully around his children Bard dropped to one knee in front of the little blond, “It’s alright, Legolas.  Your poppa is fine.  The doctor just decided that he needed more rest so they’re keeping him in the hospital tonight.”

Without a word Legolas threw his arms around Bard’s neck and started to cry.

“It’s alright, “ Bard stood hugging Legolas to him as he did.

Just then the limousine pulled up in front of the house.  “Look, Legolas, your grandfather is here,” Bard almost said ‘home’ instead of ‘here’ but caught himself; their home was not Oropher’s home. 

But Legolas only tightened his hold around Bard even as Oropher stopped to rub his back to comfort him.  Bard didn’t blame Legolas for snubbing his grandfather.  Under the circumstances Bard would have felt worse for Oropher if he wasn’t on his phone discussing business more often than he was trying to get to know his grandson.  The first thing Thranduil did when he got home each night was to find his son and ask him about his day.  Oropher had sent his son to boarding school.  Thranduil, until he was too sick to do it, was still driving Legolas to school each morning instead of letting him take the bus.   

***

The children had followed him into the kitchen but had not approached with any questions so Bard sent them into the living room to watch television while he stayed behind to make lunch.  Macaroni and cheese from scratch, not from a box, was on the menu for that day.  While at the counter grating cheddar with a box grater Bard heard quiet footsteps coming down the hall.  He turned, expecting to see Tilda but it was Bain standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Is Mr. Thranduil going to be okay, Da?  I mean, really okay?”

Bard held out the block of cheddar cheese hinting to Bain that he should come in and help grate it while they talked, “I think so.  I sure hope so.”

Bain took the cheese and began to grate it.  “I read on the internet it may take up to a year for him to get better.”

“Yeah, I read that too.” Bard hunted in the cabinet for the macaroni, trying to keep his tone light hoping that he radiated the positive mood he wanted his son to feel.

“I know you told us we have to be careful but what if one of us gets sick, could he die?”

Bard placed the box of pasta on the counter, “If one of us gets sick we have to be extra careful with what we do around him.  We’ll have to wear a mask, wash our hands a lot and…”

“But could he die?” Bain interrupted.

The last thing he wanted to talk about was Thranduil dying but he had a responsibility to answer, “If Mr. Thranduil got sick it is possible that he could die, yes.  But we’re not going to let that happen, are we?”

“No, Da.”  Bain finished grating the cheese.  After he popped a pinch of it into his mouth he added, “I don’t want him to die.”

Bard mussed up his son’s hair, “Neither do I, son.”

“Could Legolas stay with us if something happened to his da?”

“Nothing is going to happen to Mr. Thranduil.”

“But what if it did?  Could Legolas stay with us?”

In addition to visits to doctors and specialists there had been two meetings with an attorney so Thranduil could make his wishes regarding his sons’ care legal.  “Mr. Thranduil asked me to look after Legolas, so yes, he could stay here with us.”

“Cool.”  Having had all his questions answered to his satisfaction Bain turned to go.

“Bain?”

“Yeah, Da?”

“Nothing is going to happen to Mr. Thranduil.”  Bard didn’t know if he said that more for himself or for his son.

“Okay, Da.”

*

It was only Bard and the children around the table for lunch.  Oropher declined the offer and decided to go out to eat.  With the other man out of the house Bard figured it was the perfect time to reiterate what they could and could not do around Thranduil, assure them that Thranduil was going to be alright and answer any questions the children might still have but were afraid to approach him with earlier.

While Sigrid, Bain and Tilda ate with their usual gusto Legolas’s bowl remained untouched in front of him.  “What’s the matter, Legolas?” Bard asked.  “Don’t you like macaroni and cheese?  Do you want something else?”

“When is Poppa coming home?”

“As soon as the doctor says he’s strong enough.”

“When is that?”

Bard didn’t want to get the five year old’s hopes up so he had to tread lightly, “I’m not sure.  Maybe in a few days but he may not be home for a week or two.”

“Can I go see him?”

“I’ll call his doctor tomorrow and see.  But you know that if your poppa isn’t feeling well you’ll only be able to see him through the window.”

“Okay.” Legolas picked up his spoon, “Can I sleep in my bed when Poppa comes home?”

“I don’t think so.  We’ll ask the doctor about that too.”

“Okay, Mr. Bard.”  Legolas still didn’t eat but held the spoon tightly in his hand.

Bard’s heart went out to the little blond, he couldn’t imagine what the child was going through.  “Are there any more questions?”

“No,” Bain replied, having already asked his questions earlier.

Sigrid and Tilda remained silent and Bard knew if they had something to ask him they would seek him out eventually.  He said, “Okay.  I did a bit more research and we don’t have to wear masks and gloves around him like I thought we would have to but cover your mouth if you cough or sneeze then go wash your hands.  And I just want to remind you all that if you think you’re starting to feel bad you have to tell me right away.  And if one of your classmates comes to school sick I need to know that too.”

“What if the teacher is sick?” Tilda asked.

“Anyone.  If anyone you come into contact with, teachers, classmates, the school bus driver, anyone at all you tell me, okay?”

All three of his children responded, “Okay, Da.”

“Legolas.  You tell me too, okay?”

“Okay, Mr. Bard.”

“Legolas, your poppa is going to be alright.  He’ll be home soon.”

“Okay, Mr. Bard,” but he still didn't eat.

***

Later that same night, when the children were upstairs getting ready for bed, Bard was in the kitchen washing the dinner dishes when Oropher came in.  They hadn’t talked about anything non-Thranduil or Legolas related since his arrival so it probably shouldn’t have surprised Bard when Oropher said, “It’s nice of my son to let your family live here.  It’s such a big house.  It would be a waste with only the two of them here.  You’re sleeping with him, of course.”

If Bard had been drinking he would’ve spit the liquid across the room.  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

As if he hadn’t heard Bard’s response Oropher went on, “He had an affair with a young man in college.  I had that broken up quick enough.  I should’ve let them stay together.  Thranduil never would’ve wound up with that woman.  If you are sleeping with him I will find out.”

For a split second Bard wondered what Oropher did to break up his son’s relationship with another boy and if he would do the same if he and Thranduil were together in that way.  He said, “And what would you do if we were sleeping together?”

 “How much?” Oropher asked.

“How much what?”

“How much money would it take for you to stop sleeping with my son?  It didn’t take much for the boy in Thranduil’s class.  How much would it take for you?”

 _Money_ , Bard thought, _the answer to all Oropher’s problems_.    He said, “Because you’re Thranduil’s father and Legolas’s grandfather I’m not going to ask you to leave my home.  As long as they’re both here you’re welcome to visit but who I am or am not sleeping with is none of your business.”

“I’ll take that to mean that you’re _not_ sleeping with my son.”

 Despite the fury he was feeling Bard thought he might be able to use Oropher’s mood to his advantage; if Oropher was willing to talk Bard would let him, “Did Thranduil tell you this was his house?”

“No.  He never talked about it.  I just assumed…” Oropher trailed off while waving his arm around as if to indicate that the size of the house made his assumption obvious.

“This is _my_ house.” Bard informed his guest.  “Thranduil and Legolas live here with me.”

“What?”

“This is my home.  My late wife’s family took in lodgers and we kept it up when the house was left to her.  And now that she’s gone I do the same.”

“Thranduil is your lodger?”

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

“He needed some place to stay.”

“I understand that but why?  What happened to his house?  Was there a fire?”

“You don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“About the law suit his wife’s family brought against him after her death.”  The second the words were out of his mouth Bard regretted saying them and cursed himself.

“His wife’s family sued him for her death and he’s living here with you because he _lost_?  Does he still have his license to practice?”

 _So_ , Bard thought, _Thranduil is a doctor or he was_.  Bard had no idea if Thranduil still held his medical license, “You should ask him about it.”

“I’m asking _you_ about it.”

It was clear to Bard that Oropher expected him to answer and it was sad that Thranduil hadn’t gone to his father when he was in trouble.  “I didn’t know Thranduil was a doctor until this moment and I have no idea if he still has his license.  Even if I did know it really isn’t my place to say.  I’ve already said too much.”

“You haven’t said enough.”  Oropher gumbled, “I never liked that girl or her family.  I told Thranduil that they weren’t for him.”

Bard rolled his eyes, “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

“Sure you can.  Don’t socialize with lower class people then there’s no danger in winding up with one of them.  I should have insisted he go to my alma mater.  This never would have happened.”

Not that he really cared but Bard took a moment or two to think of something to say that wasn’t going to upset Oropher further or sound too condescending.  He settled on, “There’s nothing you can do to change it now.”

That seemed to placate Oropher for the moment, “No.  I suppose not.” 

“And you wouldn’t have Legolas.”

“I don’t have much of a relationship with him.”

“It’s never too late.”

“It might as well be.”

“You should talk to Thranduil.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Bard wanted to say ‘I don’t really blame him’ but he kept it to himself.  Instead he said, “That doesn’t mean _you_ can’t talk to _him_.  You did come when he needed you most.  It must mean something.”

“That was your doing.  He never would’ve asked you to contact me.  He won’t forgive you easily for doing it.”

“He’ll have the next fifty years or so to get over it.  Does it bother you that he didn’t call you himself when he was being sued or when he became ill?”

“Bother me?  Certainly.  But it doesn’t surprise me.  He can be very stubborn.  He’s like his mother in that regard.”

“He would have died if I hadn’t called, if you hadn’t come.  I had to try.”

“Does it shock you that my son would rather have died than ask for my help?”

“It did.  It does.  But, like I said, I had to try.  I wouldn’t let him die if there was something that could be done to save him.”

Changing the subject, Oropher said, “I assume Thranduil won’t be able to pay you since he won’t be able to work.  I should arrange for him to go somewhere to recover.  And Legolas will need looking after.  I broached the subject with my son but he was against it.  I don’t see how, with three children of your own that need attention, you’ll be able to give Thranduil the care he’s going to need.”

“No,” Bard said quickly causing Oropher to look at him sharply.  “They can both stay here.  It’s not the money that’s important.  I’ve already discussed the matter with all the children.  They’re more than willing to pitch in and do what’s required.”

“Still,” Oropher said still looking at Bard sternly, “I’ll talk to him about it again.  He may change his mind.”

Just as Bard opened his mouth to say something else Oropher’s cell phone rang and he left the room to answer it.  Bard had hoped that while Oropher was spending time in the house some kind of breakthrough could be made, a reconciliation, that would improve Oropher’s relationship with Thranduil but he went back to the dishes shaking his head at his own stupidity.  But his heart was still beating fast in his chest; he might have given something away he hadn’t meant to. 


	3. Home at Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil comes home from the hospital. Bard discovers a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been reading a lot more than writing lately but here it is, finally.

After a few tension filled hospital trips where he mostly demanded to be able to send his son to an after-care facility and was vehemently denied Oropher had gone back to his life.  But he had promised to be back for a visit soon, something that neither Bard nor Thranduil were looking forward to.  A full week after Oropher’s limo drove away Thranduil was cleared to leave the hospital.  Bard informed the children at dinner the night before that Thranduil was going to come home the next day and immediately Legolas demanded to be able to go along.  Since the child’s tears could bring the hardest-hearted man to his knees Bard didn’t even bother to try and get him to change his mind.  With his poppa home Bard hoped the little blond’s attitude would change back to what it had been before Thranduil got sick.  Both he and Thranduil had researched how children could possibly react to the news of a sick parent and Thranduil had talked to his son, reassured him as best he could, but Legolas was naturally afraid of losing the only parent he’d ever known.  But lately Legolas’s grades were falling, though Bard would have taken the news more seriously if the child had been in a higher grade, and he had yet to share the information and what Bard thought as Legolas’s ‘general crankiness’ with Thranduil.

*

With Legolas happily seated on his poppa’s lap the journey from the hospital room to the car was made easy because Thranduil had to use a wheelchair.  Getting from the car to the house was a bit trickier.  No matter which door they used, the front or the side, there were stairs that needed climbed (not to mention the stairs inside the house to get Thranduil to his bedroom).  But with Thranduil gripping the banister with one hand and Bard’s supporting him on the other side they made it into the house without too much trouble. 

The three of them stayed in the kitchen for a few minutes before attempting the climb to the upper floor.  Legolas sat in the chair next to his father frowning.  “What’s the matter?” Thranduil asked.  “I’m home now.  Everything will be alright.”

When Legolas didn’t respond his father said, “You thought I’d be just like I was before.  But the disease I have made me very tired and I’m going to need to rest for a while before I am back to what you knew as normal.  Do you understand?”

Legolas nodded but continued to frown.

“I can tell you not to be afraid and that I’m going to be alright but seeing me like this must be a little scary for you.  I promise you that I’m going to fight to become better as soon as I can.  And you can help me.”

For the first time since they entered the house Legolas perked up a bit, “How, Poppa?”

“By talking to me.  If you’re scared or worried I need…no, I _would like_ , for you to come to me and tell me.  That way we can talk about it and I can help you feel better.  If you feel better then I will feel better too.  Okay?”

“Okay, Poppa.”

“That will help me so much.  Thank you.  I want you to know too that if you don’t want to talk to me you can always talk to Mr. Bard.”  After seeing Bard nod his confirmation Thranduil held open his arms so Legolas hopped off his chair to receive his hug.  “Okay, now you can help Mr. Bard help me by running up the stairs and turning down the bed.”

After Legolas ran off to do as he was bid Bard helped Thranduil stand, “He’s a good kid.”

“He is.  I’m so lucky.  And to think I almost gave up on him.”  Thranduil looked away before looking back at Bard, “I don’t think I ever thanked you.”

“For what?”  A tear had fallen onto Thranduil’s cheek, Bard carefully wiped it away with his finger.

“For helping me live.”

The response Bard wanted to make got stuck in his throat.

**

At the foot of the stairs Thranduil noticed that rubber mats had been stuck to the wood treads, “You shouldn’t have done that.  The wood will be ruined.”

Bard looked at the gaudy, brown rubber mats glued to the stairs to prevent slipping but he didn’t regret doing it, “The wood can be refinished.  It’s more important that you have secure footing.”

“Thank you.” Thranduil tested a mat with his slippered foot before placing his full weight on the first step.  “I’ll pay for the refinishing.  There’s so much I’ll have to pay you back for I don’t know how I’ll ever catch up.”

Bard tightened his grip around Thranduil’s waist, “I don’t want to hear that.  You don’t owe me anything.”

At the top of the stairs Legolas was bouncing up and down with barely contained excitement as he watched his poppa slowly climb the stairs.  Thranduil wished the sight would have been enough to keep him motivated and moving but halfway up he had to rest.  When he finally made it to the top Legolas ran ahead of him into the bedroom.

On the landing upstairs Bard and the children had positioned the chairs from the dining room, which they never used, at three foot intervals in case Thranduil needed to rest on his way from or to the stairs and from or to the bathroom.  “Very clever,” Thranduil complimented the idea as he sat on the first chair.  “Remind me to thank them.”

“I’m sure they’ll all claim credit for the idea and say I had absolutely nothing to do with it when they come up to see you later.”

Legolas came out of the bedroom to see where his father was, “Poppa?”

“I’ll be there in a minute.  Did you help Sigrid, Bain and Tilda move the chairs up here?”

“Uh-huh.” Legolas approached and took his father’s hand.  He tugged gently like he was trying to pull Thranduil toward the bedroom.

“Thank you.” Thranduil tightened his hold on his son’s hand so he’d stop pulling, “Just one more minute and I’ll come along.”  Legolas’s pout broke his heart but Thranduil smiled and pulled his son to him for a hug.

*

With a deep breath and Bard’s help Thranduil stood and made his way slowly to the bedroom.  Once inside he found Legolas waiting to show him the stool at the side of the bed.  It was topped with a navy blue cushion that matched the bedding, “Look, Poppa.  We put it there so you can climb up better.”

While his son ‘steadied’ the stool for him Thranduil used it to climb into the bed, “Thank you, Legolas.”  To Bard he said, “It seems you’ve thought of everything.”

“We tried.  If there’s something you need ring the bell and I’ll come up as soon as I can.”

Thranduil eyed the brass bell next to the clock on the nightstand, “That will get very tiresome for you after a while and you’ll regret putting it there.”

Bard didn’t argue, “The exercise will be good for me.  Please use it whenever you need something.  Once the children get home I’m sure they will race each other up the stairs to see what it is you need.  It will be fun for them.”

“For a few days.”

Bard shrugged, “As long as it takes.”

Thranduil was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillows.

**

When he woke a few hours later the house was quiet.  The time on the clock read twelve twenty-four; the children would still be at school and Bard was probably in the kitchen preparing lunch for Legolas.  A glass of water was on the nightstand along with a stack of mail, and a small silver tray containing his pills and a note that read ‘take when you wake’.  Thranduil smiled as he downed the pills while fingering through the stack of mail.  There wasn’t much; a statement from his bank, a few pieces of junk mail he’d ask someone to put into recycling, a letter from Legolas’s school he’d look at later and an envelope from his attorney’s office.  He’d almost allowed himself to forget about the appeal, while not ideal he’d become settled and content in his current situation.  And then his illness put every other thought out of his mind.  Thranduil took a deep breath before tearing open the envelope.  His attorney was informing him that the appeal would be heard on the fourteenth of the following month.  That was only three weeks away.  After all the time that had passed he was so close to getting his life back and now he didn’t even have the strength to stand up for himself in court.  If his attorney couldn’t get an extension he was screwed.

****

A few days later when Bard got home from running some errands there was a strange car in his driveway.  Though he didn’t know what make is was it looked new and expensive.  _Oropher_ , Bard thought as he ran up to the side door.  He didn’t hear the voices until he was through the kitchen and almost at the top of the stairs.  The first voice was Thranduil’s, raised higher than it should be for a man in his condition, saying, “No, I won’t.”  The second voice, Oropher’s responding, “It would be better for you.”  To that Thranduil must’ve replied too lowly for Bard to hear because the next voice was Oropher’s saying, “You’re being unreasonable.”

“I just want to stay home and be close to my son.”

“This is not your home.”

“It has been for over a year.”

“He’s in love with you.”

There was a pause before Bard heard, “Don’t be ridiculous.  Bard’s as straight as they come.”  Thranduil said something else Bard didn’t quite catch.  He went up a few more steps so he could hear better even though he knew he should go back and give Thranduil and Oropher their privacy.

“You think so, huh?  We talked.  He just about confessed it to me.”

“What did he say?”  Bard may have been mistaken but he thought he heard some interest in Thranduil’s voice.

“He was adamant about you not going to an after-care facility.”

“Oh yes.  I can see how you took that to mean he’s in love with me.”  The interest Bard had thought he heard was replaced by amusement.

“Don’t laugh at me.  I won’t allow you to get involved with that man.”

“You won’t allow me?  For heaven’s sake I’m a grown man.”  Bard could picture Thranduil’s eyes rolling.  “Stay out of my life.”

“I saved your life.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“No, _he_ did.”

“You could’ve said no.  In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t.”

Oropher’s response was muffled but Bard was quite shocked at Thranduil’s last statement.  Did he really think his father wouldn’t have tried to help him if he could?  Bard would do anything for his children and he knew Thranduil would do anything for Legolas.  He was about to go back down the stairs when Thranduil said, “Bard is a good man.  If he loves me and that’s a big _if_ , and if I love him in return you should be happy for us, for me.”

“What about Legolas?”

“What about him?”

“What kind of…”

“Stop, right there.  My son would be raised in a family surrounded by love.  That’s more than I could say I ever had.  And I think I ended up alright despite everything.”

“You had a fine life.”

“Sure.  If you call nannies, tutors and boarding schools fine.  This is my life.  This is who I am, what I am, how I want to live.  You don’t have to see it or be a part of it.  Thank you for what you did.  I’ll never forget it but I won’t let you run my life because of it.  Now I’d like for you to leave.  I’m tired and I need to rest.  If you ever decide you can accept me the way I am I would be happy to see you again.  If not, so long.  If you see Bard downstairs can you ask him to come up?”

“This isn’t over.”

“Yes, it is.” Thranduil called after his father as he left the room.

Bard was trapped on the stairs.  Oropher would know he heard everything.  He squared his shoulders and stayed where he was.  He held his head high and looked Oropher straight in the eye as he passed by.  There was no mention of Thranduil requesting him.  They both knew there needn’t be.

**

“Knock, knock,” Bard tapped on the open bedroom door before entering.

“You heard all that, right?” 

“I didn’t mean to listen but I couldn’t tear myself away.  I’m sorry.”  Bard hoped he looked contrite enough as he leaned against the door jamb with his head down.

“And?” Thranduil prompted.

Bard lifted his head but remained in the doorway, “And what?”

“Is what he said true?”

“Yes, I was very adamant about you not going to an after-care place.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Which part did you mean?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“I am.”

“You love me.”  Thranduil made it a statement and not a question.

“I do.”  Bard crossed the room to sit on the chair beside the bed wanting to reach out and touch but not sure if he should, “I wasn’t sure at first.”

“Oh,” Thranduil said as a frown just like Legolas’s appeared on his face.

“What?”

“How can you be sure now?  You may only feel sorry for me.”

“I thought about that.  But I realized that I could fall for you the day you sacrificed your hair for Legolas.  Then as I got to know you the harder I fell.  The more you talked about dying the more my heart broke.”

“It’s why you called my father.”

“Yes.”

“Because you love me.”  The more he said it out loud the more Thranduil thought he could believe it.

“Yes.”

So many things were going through Tranduil’s mind; the past, the present, the future.  What his father had done, what he would do.  “I had a relationship with a guy when I was at university.”

“He told me.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He said he’d paid the guy off.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.  I take it there’s more to the story.”

“Eric told me about the bribe.  I told him to ask for more.  He did and my father gave it to him.  After the payoff we snuck around together.  For weeks we met at various places around campus.  Or we’d sneak into each other’s dorm rooms.  We were careful not to be seen in public together.  We had one class together but we didn’t sit near each other.  We thought we were so clever but my father found out, sent a few goons to school and they beat the crap out of Eric.  He left town when he got out of the hospital.  He didn’t let me see him so I couldn’t apologize.”

“You think you’re father will send someone after me?”

“I would hope not.”

“Is that why you don’t turn to him when you’re in trouble?”

Thranduil tried to change the subject, “What else did the two of you talk about?”

_Question avoidance, a family trait_ , Bard thought.  “Answer the question first.”

“What question?”

“Why you don’t turn to him when you’re in trouble.”

“Why would I go to him?”

“He’s your father.”

“Like that’s supposed to mean something?”

“He came this time.”

“I didn’t ask him to.  Maybe he only came because it wasn’t me who asked.”  Thranduil shook his head, “I don’t want to fight about this.”

“We’re not fighting.  We’re talking.”

Thranduil sighed, “He’s still going on about me going to after-care.”

“I know.”

“Maybe I should.”

“Maybe you should.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I have this terrible feeling that if I went I would never come back.”  Thranduil put his hand out to Bard.

From the dispenser on the nightstand Bard pumped some hand-sanitizing foam into his palm to clean his hand before threading his fingers with Thranduil’s , “You think you’re father would do something to prevent it?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”  Thranduil smiled weakly, “Maybe he’d burn the house down.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Sorry.  It’s just that he’s so controlling.  He hates the thought of me being bi-sexual.”

“You could deny that you have feelings for me, _if_ you have feelings for me.”

“I wouldn’t deny you to him or anyone else.”

“So you do.”

“Have feelings for you?  Yes.  Is it love?  I’m sorry but I don’t know.  With everything that’s been going on it will take some time for me to figure it out.  I feel desire for you.  Definitely lust.  I admire you, respect you.  The way you are with the children is amazing and you have a great sense of humor.”

“All excellent qualities.”

“To be sure.”

Bard grinned as he tried to wriggle his eyebrows, “So you lust after me.  It’s too bad you can’t do anything about it in your condition.”

“You’re teasing me again.”

Bard’s smirk answered for him. 

Thranduil unlaced his fingers from Bards, crossed his arms over his chest and pouted again, “That’s evil.  It might be a whole year before I can even kiss you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Neither am I.” Thranduil gave his hand back to Bard, “You’re turn to answer my question.”

“What question?” Bard turned the hand in his over, tracing the detail of the lines with his finger.

“What else did the two of you talk about?”

“I think he had a few cocktails at lunch.  He was very candid.  I may have let a few things slip though.”

“Bard, what did you do?” Thranduil caught Bard’s finger and held it tight.

Bard shook his finger free.  As he examined his finger to avoid Thranduil’s glare he said, “I may have told him about the lawsuit your in-laws filed against you.”

“Why would you do that?”

“He thought this was your house and me and the kids were living here with you.  When I corrected him he asked me why.”

“And you told him.”

“I was a little offended.  I told him before I could stop myself.”

“What else?”

“ _He_ told _me_ you were a doctor.”

“I was.”

“Not anymore?”

“My heart wasn’t in it anymore.”

“After your wife…”

“Yes.”

Just like the night he’d sat with Thranduil in the kitchen and been told about how his wife haunted him Bard could feel the love Thranduil had for her and it made him wonder if Thranduil _could_ love him.  “Well, I’ll go and let you rest.”

“Was there anything else?”

“Uh..I don’t remember.”

“Bard…”

“Honestly.  If I think of something I’ll tell you.”

“You know when somebody says ‘honestly’ it implies that they’re not _always_ honest.”

“I’ve heard that.”  Before Thranduil could respond Bard slipped out of the room.  He couldn’t help but feel like something in their relationship had changed he just didn’t know if it was for better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As y'all can tell I totally suck at "setting the scene". Dialog - no problem, adding feelings and atmosphere - no thank you!


	4. A Talk on the Stairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard overthinks things. Thranduil tries to clear things up for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. Every time I wrote their conversations they wound up fighting and I couldn't get past that. I hope this story is making sense.
> 
> I'm also sorry for not responding to comments. That's very unlike me. I want everyone who has left a comment to know that it is very much appreciated!

The bell never rang.  Bard knew it wouldn’t.  But the children had been excited to put it there.  They certainly didn’t have any problem using it when they were sick.  Thranduil had taken the news of his son’s falling grades seriously but, like Bard, would’ve taken it more seriously if Legolas had been in a higher grade.  He was concerned enough to have Legolas do his homework upstairs with him every afternoon though instead of sitting in the kitchen with the rest of the children.  Legolas also began sleeping in the room he shared with is poppa again.  Bard didn’t know if it was a good idea given that children were more susceptible to getting sick but he kept his mouth shut.

As he stood at the stove waiting for the water to boil for Thranduil’s tea Bard thought again about the conversation he’d had with Thranduil about their feelings.  _I just wish I had been able to do it on my own terms instead of having to confirm Oropher’s suspicion.  I should’ve been vaguer like Thranduil had been.  ‘Maybe’ or ‘I think so’ or ‘I’m still sorting it out’ would have been better than just blurting it out like that._   Bard shook his head as he shrugged, _it’s too late now.  But I still can’t help worrying about it_.

The creaking of the floorboards upstairs snapped Bard out of his wonderings.  He knew what the sound indicated so he didn’t panic.  Thranduil had planned out a routine for himself; certain times meant certain activities, naps, meals, light physical therapy or bathroom visits.  It was nearing nine so that meant a trip to the bathroom.  There would be fifteen or so minutes of various noises from upstairs then the floor would creak again as Thranduil returned to this room. 

The kettle started to steam so Bard turned it off before it could begin to whistle.  _Anyway_ , Bard thought as he carefully poured the hot water into Thranduil’s mug, _if it’s meant to be it will be_.

*

Despite knowing that Thranduil had not come back to his room yet Bard still knocked on the door before entering.  He noted the bed was made even though its occupant would return shortly.  Before Bard could put the mug down on the night stand he had to move a letter out of the way.  He couldn’t help but notice that it was from an attorney’s office.  He was still standing next to the bed with the mug and letter in his hand when Thranduil came back in.

“So,” Thranduil teased, “you don’t just eavesdrop you snoop too.”

Thankfully Bard only dropped the letter as he was surprised by Thranduil’s return, “Oh.  I’m...I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright.”  Thranduil, tired from his short journey to the bathroom and back, leaned against the end of the bed for support.

Bard picked the letter back up and held it out but Thranduil didn’t take it, “It’s from your attorney.” 

“Yes,” Thranduil confirmed.

“Your appeal…”  Bard put the letter back down on the nightstand before gently placing the hot mug next to it.

“Yes.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Is it?”

“The new judge will see the truth and you’ll get all your stuff back.”

“Maybe.”

Bard realized his standing by the side of the bed was preventing Thranduil from lying down again.  “Sorry, here, let me help you.”  He moved around the bed holding out his hand.

“Thank you.”  Though he didn’t think he needed the assistance Thranduil took Bard’s hand and leaned on him for support until he got back into bed.

“What do you mean, ‘maybe’?” Bard asked while he pulled to blanket over Thranduil after he had settled.

“Would it be so horrible if I didn’t?  The money would be nice, yes.  But I’d have to take Legolas out of school and he’d have to adjust to his old school being his new school.”

“Oh,” Bard said, his heartbeat speeding up in his chest, “you’d leave.”

“I’d have my stuff back,” Thranduil made scare-quotes in the air with his finger when he said ‘stuff’.  “That includes the house.”

It was hard for Bard to leave the hint of disappointment out of his voice but he did the best he could, “I see.”

“I could sell the house.”

“You could.”  Hope sprang up in Bard’s heart and mind.

“It’s a nice house in a great neighborhood.  There’s a big yard for kids to play in; jungle gym and everything.  I always thought I’d put in a pool when Legolas got a little older.  I’d get a lot for it.”

“I’m sure.”

“Lots of memories there though.”

“So,” Bard shook then nodded his head, “you’d want to go back then.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“What _are_ you saying?”

“It’s a big decision.”

Bard snapped, “Is it?”

“Yeah.  It is.  Is there something you want to say to me?”

“I’m sorry.”  Bard reached out and pattted Thranduil’s hand.  “I just don’t want you to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave.  I’m very happy here.  Legolas is too.  I’d ask you to come with me but I know how hard it would be for you to leave this house.  None of this matters anyway.  It’s not like I can go to the appeal.”

“Why couldn’t you go?”

“I’m not exactly in good shape.”

“We get you to the doctor we can get you to the courthouse.  It has to have wheelchair access.”

“Maybe the judge would take pity on me.  My in-laws will get a kick out of seeing me in a wheelchair.  They’ll say I’m sick because God is punishing me.”

“God is punishing you?”

“I let their daughter die.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“They think it is.”

“They were and probably still are grieving.”

“So was I.”

“Aren’t you still?”  There was a little more venom in his voice then Bard meant to show.

Thranduil was about to say something but stopped, startled by Bard’s attitude, “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing.  Never mind.” Bard began to back out of the room.  “Forget I said that.  Drink your tea before it gets cold.”

“Bard.”

“I’ll have your lunch up at the usual time.  Tuna today.”  And he was out the door and down the stairs as fast as he could go.  Bard didn’t know what had come over him.  He never meant for their conversation to turn confrontational.   _Of course he’d want to return to his old life.  He’d have his own big house and his money back.  I can’t believe I was so stupid.  Stupid, stupid, stupid._

The bell began to ring.

**

When the ringing stopped Bard felt a little relief as well as a lot of guilt.  _I’m going to have to explain myself when I bring up lunch.  I’m making a mess out of everything_.  The floorboards creaking upstairs made Bard look up and listen.  Thranduil was out of bed.  It wasn’t time for him to be out of bed.  He always napped after his tea.  The creaking was replaced by a strange sliding sound which Bard felt compelled to investigate.  What he saw made him shake his head in disbelief; Thranduil, in his pajamas and dressing gown, was sliding down the stairs on his butt like the children used to do when they were younger and afraid to walk down the stairs alone.  “What the hell are you doing?”

“Coming to see you.”  Thranduil slid down another stair.

“Go back to bed.  It’s nap time.  I’ll be up with lunch later.”

“No.  I think we need to talk.”  Thranduil slid another stair closer to Bard.

“It can wait.”

“I don’t think it can or should.”  Another stair.

“You’re very stubborn.”

Thranduil slid down another stair and stopped, “This is harder than it looks.  Do you think you could meet me halfway?”

“Tired are you?”

“A little.”

“Should’ve stayed in bed,” Bard grumbled as he began to climb the stairs.

“Should’ve answered the bell,” Thranduil replied when Bard sat next to him.  “What you said…”

“I didn’t mean anything by it.  You’re in-laws should’ve recognized that you were grieving as well.”

“I don’t think that’s what you meant.  I think _you think_ I’m still in love with my wife.”

Bard did not want his conversation to turn confrontational like the last but he could feel part of himself wanting to say, _I can tell you are.  When you talk about her I can see it in your eyes_.  He took a deep breath to clear his head but Thranduil spoke before he could say anything.

“You’re right.”

Bard felt his heart drop into his stomach.

“A part of me still loves her just like a part of you will always love your wife.  But that doesn’t mean I can’t or won’t love you.  I like you.  I’ve told you that.  I know she’s gone.  I know it wasn’t my fault but I still feel so much guilt over what happened.  I loved her.  I admired her conviction but at the same time I hated her for putting me though it with her.  Does that make any sense?”

Bard nodded, “I can understand that.  I don’t have your guilt but I have memories of times spent with my wife too.  It takes time.”

“That’s what I need.”

“I can give you that.”

“Thank you.”  Both men fell silent until Thranduil took Bard’s hand, “I do wish I could kiss you though.  It might help.”

With unusual smugness and a wink Bard said, “It definitely would.”  He squeezed Thranduil’s hand then stood up, “But let’s not go there.  Come on, I’ll help you back to bed.”

“Could you help me down the stairs instead?  Staring at the same four walls is driving me stir crazy.”

“Absolutely.”

*

With Thranduil settled on the sofa, remote in hand and lap-top in lap, Bard went back to the kitchen even more convinced that revealing his feelings to Thranduil had been a mistake.  _I should’ve kept my mouth shut until I was sure.  Of course he still loves her.  It hasn’t been that long, only two years or so.  It’s the guilt that’s making him hold on though.  Once he’s able to let go of that his heart will open up again.  But how long will that take?  He has a lot of guilt to get over_.

“Bard!”

The call was louder than Bard had ever heard Thranduil’s voice before.  _How long had he been trying to get my attention while I was off_?  He stuck his head into the living room, “Sorry.”

“I left my water upstairs.”

“Coming right up.”  Bard got a fresh glass of water from the kitchen but when he brought it to the living room he found that he could not meet Thranduil’s eyes when he went to hand off the glass, “Here you go.”

“Something wrong?” Thranduil asked while closing the laptop.

“No.”

“You can talk to me.”

“It’s nothing.”

Thranduil sighed as he shook his head, “It’s always nothing.  Try to think of it as a way for me to get to know you better.”

Bard relaxed his tense shoulders as he sat on the coffee table and tried to come up with something that wasn’t the truth but wasn’t a lie either, “I was thinking…”

“You think too much.”

“I was thinking,” Bard continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “that you might want to take a little walk outside, sit on the porch for a bit maybe.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Bard, “You’re not going to make this easy on me are you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I don’t think that’s what you were thinking at all.  I think you were over-thinking what I said to you on the stairs.”

“Does it show?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.  Just talk to me.  Are you regretting telling me how you feel?”

“A little.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure how to act now.  I love you.  You don’t love me.  You may not ever love me.  If I hadn’t told you…”

“You could go on hiding it or denying it.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re putting way too much pressure on yourself.  You love me.  I’m not running away from that.  If I didn’t think I was capable of returning that feeling I would call my father and tell him that I want to go to aftercare.  I was honest with you.  Should I not have been?” 

“No, no.  I’m glad you were.”

“Is there anything else I can say that will make you stop regretting telling me?”

When Bard didn’t respond right away Thranduil continued, “I don’t know if I should tell you this but I’ve been doing some research.”

That peaked Bard’s interest, “Go on.”

“A lot of men have a decrease in sexual desire after a bone marrow transplant.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not one of those men.”

“Still lusting after me, are you?”

“Are you taking this seriously?”

“Of course.  Sorry.  What did you find out?”

“It seems that we can’t kiss on the mouth but we can kiss other parts of our bodies and we can have oral sex as long as the receiver wears a condom.  As soon as my platelet count is over fifty thousand I can have penetrative sex.”

“That was very blunt.”

“I was a doctor.”

“Right.”

“What do you think of all that though?”

“You were blunt so I’m going to be as well.  Are you just looking to satisfy your lust?”

“What?  No.  I wanted you to know that you can touch me without fear of hurting me, that we can be intimate if we want to be.”

“You would have oral sex with someone you don’t love?”

“I liked but I wasn’t in love with Elaine the first time we had sex.  I liked her as I like you.  In fact, I would say that being physical, sharing that experience brought us closer.  But we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Bard stood and started pacing behind the coffee table, “I’m sorry.  I don’t know what’s come over me today.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling.”

“That’s it, I don’t know.  I can’t stop thinking that telling you how I feel was a mistake.  Now you tell me we can be physical and I don’t know if I’m thrilled or…or…or what.”

Thranduil slid the lap-top onto the coffee table, “Come here.”

“Why?”

“Bard…”

Bard slid the laptop over before he sat on the coffee table, “I’m here.”

Thranduil reached for Bard’s hand but felt Bard hesitate, “I’m not going to bite you.”  When Bard relaxed Thranduil put Bard’s hand on his chest.

Leaning over was not the ideal position so Bard knelt on the floor.  He couldn’t take his eyes away from where his hand rested on Thranduil’s chest, rising and falling with each breath Thranduil took.  After a moment he pulled his hand back, “I understand what you’re saying.”

“But you still can’t believe that I could love you.”

“It’s not that.  There’s just so much to process.”

“Okay.  I’m not going to go on and on about this but please talk to me if you’re having doubts.  It’s the only way we’re going to move forward.”

Bard said, “Okay” but in his mind he was thinking that he was more confused than ever.


	5. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard, still slightly overthinking things, comes up with a plan. But the fates may have different ideas in mind for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooo sorry it took me so long to update this. But it's hard writing while chasing a toddler around the house and trying to make sure he stays out of trouble....
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Tossing and turning from side to side or lying flat on his back still as a statue was doing nothing for Bard.  Sleep was not going to come easy.  He sat up with a sigh.  He stayed still listening to the quiet, the blanket pooling in his lap.  A glance at the clock told him it was only quarter after twelve.  With another sigh he threw the sheet off and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  After years of climbing in and out of the same bed Bard knew exactly where to place his feet to avoid the creak the wood floor would make when he stood up.  He remembered how the sound would wake his wife instantly.  She’d have to know why he was up and where he was going before she rested her head on her pillow again.  “Come back soon,” she’d say, “you know I can’t sleep without you next to me.”  But sometimes, when he got back in bed, she would be sound asleep.  If she was still awake she’d ask, “Everything alright?”  He would always say ‘yes’, kiss her on the shoulder then snuggle up behind her.  Sometimes they’d make love. 

There was no light in the hallway but Bard didn’t need one.  Stopping outside Thranduil’s door he thought he would open it if Legolas wasn’t asleep beside his father.  _Would Thranduil hear the door and wake up?_   In his mind’s eye bard could picture him, blond hair fanned out around the pillow, bathed in moonlight.  _He can’t be anything but beautiful.  Would I, could I, slip into bed with him, hold him like I held her?  Would we make love?_   He didn’t realize he had his hand on the door knob until he turned to walk away. 

The doors to the children’s rooms were also closed but those he could crack open.  Bain had thrown his blanket off and was sleeping on his stomach, one leg over the side of the bed.  _When I was his age I never slept like that.  Anything hanging over the side would be grabbed by a monster.  I still try to not let any part of my legs or arms hang over the side._

In the next room, both girls were still under their blankets but Tilda had turned on her side while Sigrid lay on her back.  _They shouldn’t have to share a room.  I wonder how may bedrooms Thranduil’s house has, five or six?  Would he take borders into his home?_   Bard closed the door.  He sat down in the chair closest to the girl’s room, _I don’t know why I’m so messed up in my head about this potential relationship with Thranduil.  I’ve never been with a man but I have found certain men to be attractive and he is the most attractive man I’ve ever seen so it’s not that.  If he were a woman, I would have asked him out by now.  I can’t ask him out because he can’t really go out, can he?_   Then an idea popped into his head and a plan began to form.

***

Bard dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen table a little harder than he meant to but he was startled when Thranduil asked, “What’s wrong?”

Instead of going to the sitting room Bard shouted back, “How did you get down here?”

“By myself,” was Thranduil’s reply.

The smugness, or was it pride, in Thranduil’s voice made Bard smile, “Obviously, cheeky bastard.”

Half the groceries were put away before Thranduil’s voice was heard again, “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“You’re slamming cabinet doors.  I’m pretty sure they don’t deserve it.”

A quip was on the tip of Bard’s tongue but he let it go unsaid.  Leaving the other, non-perishable items on the table Bard went to the living room.  He sat heavily on the chair to the left of the sofa, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to the cabinets.” Thranduil said pointing in the direction of the kitchen and frowning.

Bard’s pout was epic, “I wasn’t banging them that hard.”

“But still, you were banging them.  They will definitely require an apology.”

“I’ll get them later.”

“Something happen at the store?”

“Not exactly.”

“What then?”

“You know that exit off the highway where people are supposed to yield?”

“Yes.”

“Nobody ever yields.”

“I’ve noticed.  In fact, they speed up most of the time.  The yield sign should be changed to a stop sign.”

“Yes!”  Bard was happy he wasn’t the only one to experience the frustration at that particular point.  But that wasn’t all that was bothering him.  “I also got cut off by a woman pulling out of the coffee shop and almost hit by a guy who ran a red light by the grocery store.  Inside the store a woman stepped right in from of me to get something like I wasn’t even there.  No excuse me or pardon me, nothing.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”  Thranduil paused for Bard to reply but the silence dragged on for a few more seconds before Thranduil said, “You’re very sexy when you’re flustered.”

Bard rolled his eyes, “Stop that.”

“You’re cute when you blush too.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

Thranduil winked, “But you feel better now.”

Bard couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah.”

“Good.  My job here is done.  Go make lunch.”

Bard got to his feet feeling a lot better than he had when he sat down, “Yes, your majesty.”

**

Lunch was made and served, but the events of the morning were not forgotten by Bard.  He was determined not to let his frustration at a few careless individuals ruin his plan.  A small roast was already in the crock pot, so it would be tender when done.  Bard would add vegetables halfway through the cook time, so they wouldn’t be too mushy.  With Thranduil napping on the sofa Bard went to set the dinning table.  Dusting was not on his to-do list but needed to be done as a light film covered the table top.  After the table was cleaned and set for two Bard looked around for things to make the setting a little more romantic.  The nine-candle candelabra was a little pretentious, so Bard set out two tapered candles on the end close to the place settings.  Cloth napkins and real sliver silverware that had belonged to Bard’s great-great-great grandmother completed the table.  The only thing missing was the chairs.  He’d have to get two later, after the surprise.

As he made his way back to the kitchen Bard thought about the conversation he’d had with the children that morning.  They had agreed to go to Hilda’s right after school; she would pick them up at the bus stop.  Bard only hoped that Legolas would be okay with that.  They seemed fine with the plan, but he knew how unpredictable children could be.

**

When the middle finger on his lift hand started to itch Bard knew his well-conceived and laid-out plan was doomed to failure.  Bad news always arrived when that finger itched.  When he was a small boy it had itched like crazy the day his ma had told him the old, family cat had died.  He never really liked the cat, it had hissed at him a lot, but it was his mother’s favorite so he’d cried when she’d told him.  He remembered it itching when his father came home early from work one day and announced that he’d been laid-off from his job so the vacation to the beach had to be cancelled.  He’d scratched it almost until it bled the day his wife came home with her diagnosis of possible ovarian cancer.

They were sitting on the sofa, or rather Bard was sitting, Thranduil was lying down, dozing with his feet in Bard’s lap.  When the foot massage he had been getting ended abruptly Thranduil cracked open an eye to see Bard intently examining his finer, “I did not tell you to stop.”  He expected an apology then a continuation of the massage but instead Bard kept rubbing his finger.  After a few seconds more of watching Thranduil nudged Bard with his foot, “Hello, Bard, are you with me?”

That time Thranduil received his apology, “Sorry,” but not the resumption of the foot rub.

“Something wrong with your finger?”

Bard continued to rub and look at his finger, “Itches.”

“Mosquito bite?”

“No,” Bard did not want to tell Thranduil about his finger omen.  He balled his hand into a fist as he desperately tried to ignore the sensation.  “Talk about something.  Distract me.”

“What do you want to talk about?

“I don’t care, anything.”

“My lawyer thinks I have an excellent chance of winning my appeal.”

“You shouldn’t have lost in the first place.”

“If I hadn’t I wouldn’t have met you.  I’d probably be dead now.”  Thranduil rubbed Bard’s side with his foot.

Bard took Thranduil’s foot from his side and began the massage again, “I wish you wouldn’t keep saying that.”

“It’s true and you know it.”

Just as Bard was about to respond his cell phone rang.  The caller ID showed that it was the children’s school.  He untangled himself from Thranduil as he stood up, “Hello.”

“Mr. Bowman, this is Mrs. Morrison, the nurse at Woodland Elementary.  I’m afraid Tilda has a slight temperature.  You’ll have to come pick her up.”

“How slight?”

“It’s one oh one point two.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Don’t forget to check in at the front desk.”

“I won’t.”  Bard hit the disconnect button with a sigh, “Tilda has a fever.  I have to go get her.”

“Oh no, all your plans..oops,” Thranduil covered his mouth with his hand.

“You know?”

“Of course.”

“Legolas.”

“Yup.”

“I asked him not to say anything.  He seemed to understand.”

“I have always told him that he needed to come to me if anyone told him to do something he was unsure about.”

“Absolutely, of course he should.”

“He’s a good boy.”

“Yes, he is.  I’ll take Tilda straight upstairs with I get back.”  Before he left Bard handed Thranduil a mask, just in case, anyway.

*

With Tilda asleep in her bed Bard checked on Thranduil in the living room, “It’s only a slight fever.  I gave her something so hopefully that will bring it down and she’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

“I can stay in my room this weekend so she doesn’t have to stay in hers.”

“I think it would be better if she stayed in her room.  There’d be less surfaces to sanitize and you never go in there.”

“If that’s what you think is best.”

“You look tired.”

“I always look tired.”

“I’ll let you rest.  I still have some things to do in the kitchen before dinner.”

“You’re not planning on cancelling our date, are you?”

“One is home, might as well have all home.”

“Tilda is upstairs.  Don’t cancel.”

Normally Bard would argue but Thranduil was right.  Tilda would probably sleep most of the afternoon anyway and Bard could always put in a dvd for her while they ate.  “Okay.  I’ll go make her some chicken soup for dinner though.”

“Great.  I’ve been looking forward to tonight since Legolas told me.”

Without another word Bard turned to finish his plans for his date and to make Tilda’s soup.

**

There was a bit of activity when the kids got off the bus without Tilda.  Bard had called Hilda to explain but Sigrid wouldn’t be happy until she had seen that her little sister was in the house for herself.  Bain, of course, had to see too.  Bard soon ushered both his kids out the door while Thranduil spoke briefly to Legolas, kissed him on the head then sent him out with Hilda.  When the door closed behind them he said to Bard, “That was fun.”

“Can we just go eat?”

“Relax.  We have hours to go.”

Bard didn’t want to say how his finger had started to itch again.

**

Bard pulled out a chair for his “date”.

“I think I’ve only been in this room when I was playing hide and seek with Legolas.  But then the lights were off.  It’s very nice in the light.”

“Sit,” Bard commanded.

“Yes, sir.”

“We used to eat in here every night until..”

“I understand.”

“Anyway, it’s easier to just eat in the kitchen.  I’ll be right back.” Bard hustled to the kitchen to remove the roast and vegetables from the crock pot.  He arranged the food on a serving tray then returned to the dining room to serve.

They ate in relative silence, Thranduil eating mostly the tender vegetables, while Bard dove into the roast with gusto.  About halfway through the meal Thranduil put his fork down, “I’d like to take you somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I thought maybe tomorrow but with Tilda sick…”

“It would be too dangerous for you.  Where did you want to go?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises.”

“Me too but I think you need to see this one.”

“Tilda has to be fever free for twenty-four hours before returning to school or doing any activities since it’s the weekend that means she’s in her room until Sunday.  Would that work?”

“That would work.  I’ll wear a mask just in case though.”

“Maybe it’s too risky.  We shouldn’t take chances with your health, especially this close to your court date.”

“Next weekend then or maybe one day through the week when the children are in school.”

“As long as we’re back in time to meet the bus.”

“Hmmmm,” Thranduil thought about how long it would take to get where he wanted to go and back again, “next weekend then.”

“Next weekend,” Bard agreed.

“Court is next week.”

“Wednesday, I remember.  You have a doctor’s appointment on Tuesday too.”

“I don’t think my platelets are up to fifty thousand yet.”

“They won’t be for a while.”

“Sometimes it’s very hard being near you and not being able to do what I want to do.”

“What do you want to do?” Bard’s heart beat faster in his chest.  He knew he shouldn’t encourage Thranduil to talk about being physical, he was positive that was where Thranduil was going, but he couldn’t help himself.

“What I should’ve said is ‘what I want you to do to me’.”

“What do you want me to do to you?”

“Kiss me.  Touch me.”

At some point in the exchange between them they had reached out, their fingers had entwined, and they were leaning toward each other.  Bard wanted to pull Thranduil to him and do exactly what the other wanted.  “Soon.”  Bard’s head was spinning, and he was no longer hungry for roast beef.  He had to break the spell he was falling under, “Dessert?”


End file.
